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Seashore
Sly low tide sneaks up to smooch the smooth shore
that holds old footsteps left behind us
and lends itself to sand castles
standing guard until high tide
plovers dart on fleet feet
across sodden sands
spindle-legged girls
hunt conch shells —
starfish
found!
Blue
waters
glistening
aqua appeal —
white horse sea-magic
spindrift manes rise from crests
awakened from lowest ebb
high tide arrives on thunder hooves
body-surf Neptune’s steeds to the shore —
my wet hair dries to sun-bleached beachy waves…
Copyright ©
Susan Ashley
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